


Netflix and Chill: Part 2

by Skyler10



Series: Netflix and Chill [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Domestic Bliss, F/M, First Time, Netflix and Chill, Pete's World, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:26:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyler10/pseuds/Skyler10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s lights, camera, action for the Doctor’s plan to seduce Rose with the “less is more” philosophy his friends recommended. Little does he know, Rose has a few ideas of her own for how this date night is going to play out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fort Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Netflix and Chill: Part 1 (obviously), which was inspired by a prompt and an interview in which David and his interviewer discover the phrase isn’t as innocent as it sounds. Also, it’s Christmas so that kind of worked its way into the setting as well. Oops. Not super Christmas-y though. Can be read at other times of the year.

[Part 1 here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5253890)

 

 

 

The Doctor wasn’t quite sure how things had gone relatively flawlessly so far (besides being tangled in Christmas lights two weekends in a row, that is). He was not only involved, but the mastermind behind this date night – one with Miss Jeopardy Friendly, no less – yet nothing had gone disastrously wrong. This universe must like him much more than the last.

It was three weeks until Christmas. They had decorated their flat in festive holiday fashion last weekend. Right at this second, he was in a magical haven of blankets and pillows and, most important of all, Rose’s lips were on his, which was a very good sign that the first stage of his plan was going rather smoothly. Well, he couldn’t be all that prideful. The _real_ first stage of his plan – arranging their date-night-in tonight – largely depended on luck.

* * *

Last night after getting back late from the pub, he found her asleep on the couch. She had cleaned up from her girls’ night and must have been waiting up for him. He paused to admire her beauty for a second, brushing a blonde strand back from her face. Then he gently removed her magazine from her lap and set it aside before lifting her into his arms and carrying her to bed. He managed not to wake her, even when he lay down beside her for a few hours. Being only part human and not a little nervous about his plan for tonight, he awoke long before she did this morning. He began his wooing early with a cuppa ready for her when she appeared in the kitchen doorway. She had smiled gratefully and hummed in delight as she took the warm mug from his hands. He placed a light kiss on her forehead, unable to resist at least a little intimate contact with the plans brewing in his mind. But that was all he allowed himself. They had an entire Saturday with her family to get through before they were free to indulge in date night.

The sounds of appreciation she made as she sipped her tea nearly did him in, though, familial obligations be damned. She winked at him over the rim of the mug, and he realized she knew exactly what she was doing to him. Tease.

Even their schedule for the day worked in his favor, however. After taking Tony Christmas shopping for Pete and Jackie, followed by lunch with said parents and two back-to-back emergency calls from Torchwood, Rose was stuck at work filling out paperwork. He couldn’t be trusted to care enough to fill it out correctly (Rose’s words, not his) and he was the one covered in alien goo, so he was sent home. Which worked out rather well, as he needed her out of the flat so he could set up.

After a quick shower and a load of laundry, alien goo was no longer an issue, which left him free to focus on this whole “Netflix and chill” situation he had gotten himself into.

The proverbial lightbulb turned on over his head as he surveyed their sitting room. This situation called for a blanket fort. But not just any blanket fort. The ultimate, most romantic winterhaven ever built.

“Simple” went out the window as far as preparation was concerned. He dug out the extra fairy lights left over from their Christmas decorating. He arranged chairs, floorlamps, a stepladder and a coatrack to achieve structural support, then carefully draped sheets and blankets for the roof and walls. He engineered a lighting strategy that allowed the fairy lights to be plugged in but still hang mostly inside the fort, and left a “door” opening in front of the telly for the Netflix part of the plan.

He had always loved watching their favorite shows with her; even back in their old universe it was one of his favorite activities due to their witty commentary, which usually included inside jokes dating back to his ninth body. But tonight was about a leap forward in their romance, not comedic nostalgia. It was the one flaw in this whole Netflix and chill scenario: How to get from the literal to the innuendo of the phrase.

He pushed aside that dilemma to focus on filling the fort with the couch cushions, mounds of pillows and a fluffy spare duvet. It wasn’t quite enough, seeing as the fort took up the entire sitting room. He added their pillows and the duvet from their bed. It was still lacking something, a crown jewel.

Then he spotted the mistletoe Jackie had bought them as a joke. He hung it from the roof of the fort, where the sheet peaked like a circus tent from its connection to a string that was attached to the ceiling-mounted light fixture. Despite who the mistletoe was from, it was the perfect final touch, the cherry on a decadent indoor-camping sundae.

* * *

 

At the moment, however, the dilemma of how to move the date forward was becoming more and more of a reality. She had arrived home an hour ago and, he was pleased to note, the look on her face was pure delight (that is, once he explained what the massive blanket-and-chair structure was). He had made dinner, which they ate in their fort, of course, and she had poured them a little wine. After cleaning up the plates and glasses, he returned to the fort to find her holding the remote.

“So I guess we should…” He tilted his head to the telly.

“I actually had an idea of something a little different, if that’s alright.” She bit her lip, followed by a hopeful smile. It was so Rose. And never failed to work on him, no matter what she wanted. Considering he wasn’t sure how to proceed with the evening anyway, he was grateful at least one of them had worked out this bump in the plan.

She navigated to Netflix and their list of saved favorites, but instead of selecting one of their usual shows, she chose one he hadn’t seen there before.

It was a crackling fireplace. With the sonic enhancements he had made a month ago to the pixels in the screen, it was like having a real wood fire burning right in front of them. The sound for Earth’s wood was a little off, but it was a dead ringer for The North Pole (the planet) which made it even more authentic to him. He told her as much, and she laughed at his observation.

“I wish there was a repeat button so we could keep it on a loop,” she sighed. “This one only lasts a while, then the forest one or something comes on.”

“I may be able to do something about that,” he bragged, brandishing the sonic. He worked his Time Lord magic and waggled his eyebrows at her.

She shook her head at his cocky silliness and leaned back against the pile of pillows behind her. He could tell the second she caught sight of the mistletoe. A wicked grin played across her face just before she pounced, knocking him backward onto the soft floor of cushions.

And that was how he ended up snogging Rose Tyler in their whimsical fort of epic proportions. In front of a Netflix-produced fireplace.

 


	2. Winterhaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose has the Doctor right where she wants him and plans on unwrapping him like an early Christmas present. A little sweet, a little reflective, a lot of sexy.

Rose couldn’t believe she was thinking this, but it really was the perfect date. In their own flat! This place she had resented for years… Oh, how she had hated this flat when she first moved in. For one, it wasn’t the TARDIS, where she had desperately wanted to be. Second, it was far too quiet without his babbling and the constant hum of a timeship. Third, it was symbolic of the new life she had been forced into. Calling it home was like accepting that this universe was hers. And she couldn’t accept a life without the Doctor, so she wouldn’t be calling it that. That is, until she brought him inside and he called it home too.

Now, it was not only their home, but it was the place where she was finally going to show him just how grateful she was he had stayed, that he had said those three little words and lived them every day.

Their mistletoe-inspired kiss progressed from playful to passionate as they lay together, him on his back, her leaning over him. Her fingers roamed the front of his shirt, toying with the buttons. His hand, inching slowly under the back of her top, dared her to start popping them open. She flicked them through the holes, one by one. His tongue met hers, and she felt his other hand move from her hip to her bum.

 _Yes, this is going very nicely_ , she thought as he gave an experimental squeeze between the back pockets of her jeans. She smiled against his lips. He was getting eager and that would definitely work to her advantage.

She sat up suddenly, but before he could apologize for going too far too fast, she whipped off her red blouse to reveal a lacy black camisole. It wasn’t a complete surprise as a bit of the black lace had been peeking through the v-neck of the blouse, but seeing her in it alone as she licked her wet, pink lips made his breathing ragged.

 _Well, he hasn’t seen anything yet_ , Rose quipped to herself. But first, it was his turn. She crooked a finger and beckoned for him to sit up. He obeyed immediately, bringing back her Cheshire cat smile. It was time to make her move.

Repositioning quickly, but carefully so as not to startle him or accidentally knee him somewhere she very much wanted to play with, she straddled his lap. The Doctor took in a sharp breath, eyes growing wide until she wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the fine ends of his hair between her fingers. This seemed to sooth his nerves, and she felt him relax. She pecked a kiss to his lips then leaned her forehead against his.

“Ok?” she whispered. He nodded against her and kissed her back. She pulled away before it became another snog, however. One of them had to keep this train moving.

She pushed the button-up off his shoulders, and raked her fingernails lightly down his thin, tight undershirt until she reached the hem. She met his eyes, and he pulled it off himself, tossing both shirts away somewhere they wouldn’t roll over them.

It was her turn now, but all she could do was take in the proximity of the half-undressed Doctor in front of her, presented for her to touch. She had seen him without a shirt before, of course, and he had seen her in a bikini much more revealing than her current camisole and jeans, but this was different. Plus, it had been years since then. Though they slept in the same bed now, it was never in less than t-shirts and jimjam pants, and they changed in the bathroom.

So when he, bare chested and longing for more of her, slipped his fingers under the black lace of her spaghetti-strapped top, all she could think of was how much she wanted it off and his hands on her. He gently raised the camisole over her head, and it joined their other clothing. She felt his hands tentatively cup her breasts through her bra as if they couldn’t quite believe they had the honor. A proper snog was in order at this point, through which she gladly rewarded his boldness as his hands gained confidence. Soon she was moaning in his mouth and he was fiddling with her bra clasp.

He claimed victory over that old foe of mankind, and she let the straps fall down over her arms the sexy way she’d seen in the dirtier movies she and Shareen had snuck into as teens late at night. Well, it didn’t quite _feel_ as sexy as it looked on screen, but it apparently did the trick. The Doctor was staring in a very good way. With intent.

The bra was flung to god-knows-where in the fort (later to be found on a chair during the morning clean-up, which would lead to teasing and snogging and another round of this).

He took in his first sight of her bare breasts exactly the way she always pictured – with reverence and need and a tad bit of “why hello, so that’s what you look like! I’ve been staring at and imagining you for years.”

She would have giggled at this last thought, but his fingers began their adoration. His mouth joined his fingers and things were quickly getting – well, _uncomfortable_ – south of there in her jeans. She knew exactly what the next step in her plan was meant to be, but now that she found herself there, she was a bit embarrassed. She didn’t have any idea she could be this wet with her pants still on. That part of her wasn’t even touching him! Until now, she had been carefully positioned so her bum was resting on his lower thighs, just above his knees. If he could get her like this so easily, the only way to get over her embarrassment – and the next hurdle in their undressing – was to confront it head-on, so to speak.

She scooted forward in his lap, dislodging his hands. They came to rest on her hips, a strategic move to gain some control of her placement. _Yeah_ , she thought with an inner eye roll, _we’ll just see how “in control” he is when my mouth reaches his neck._ She blew past his attempts to keep her at a safe distance and let out a completely involuntary whimper as her well-teased nipples unexpectedly came in contact with his chest. That is, it shouldn’t have been a surprise from how close they were, but she was new to this taking-charge thing and this seriously-really-seducing-the-Doctor thing and this sitting-in-his-lap thing.

“Rose…” He breathed her name in appreciation of her lips and teeth and tongue on his skin, marking him as hers. His fingers dug into her sides in just the right possessive, desperate way and her body instinctively did the thing she had been working up the courage to do for the past five minutes. She rolled her hips and discovered exactly what she wanted to feel with every fiber of her being:

He was hard for her.

She couldn’t help the hand that wandered down to feel him properly. He groaned as she traced her fingers along the outline of the bulge in his jeans. With this him, she had always fantasized about this happening with his suit trousers, of course, but the dark denim reminded her a bit of her first Doctor. The combination of the two versions of the man she loved, here with her in this moment, hardening and lengthening even further under her touch, was more powerful than she could have ever imagined. Her lips collided with his, the tension between them drawing taut and longing for release. Her kiss was filled with all the regret and longing and ghosts of the past, all her fears of the future, all her anxieties of the present here in this winterhaven. It was forceful and wet, devouring and noisy, needy and frantic. And he was turning away.

“Slow down, Rose,” he whispered in her ear. It was so tender, so quiet, she wondered at first if it was her imagination. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “It’s ok. I’m not going to fade away this time. Never again. I’m staying right here. With you. Forever.”

“How did you know I…? Did you read my mind?” she mumbled, trying to gain some coherency in the flood of emotions crashing over her.

“No, no. You know I would never,” he hushed her confusion and pulled back to look her in the eye. “I just know you very well, Rose Tyler. And this time, let me be the one to say it: I am never going to leave you.”

“Yeah?” She fought to keep herself together as he ran a hand up and down her back in a soothing pattern.

“You know what else?”

“What?” She returned his small smile and relaxed in his arms.

“I love you.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Why’s that?” He bumped her nose with his, bringing the playful mood back before the evening got too serious.

“Because I love you too.” She fingered the short hair at the back of his neck again before gathering her courage and leaning in close to his ear. “And… I’m very, very wet for you and sitting in your lap.”

She sat back to catch his reaction. His breathing sped up again and his tongue darted out to run across his lips, now likely sore from her bruising kiss.

“You know what else?” she echoed his earlier question.

“What?” He blinked, back to eager and aroused now that she was ok.

“I think it’s time for these to come off.” As she voiced this opinion, she snaked her hands down between them to work at the buckle of his belt. It wasn’t very successful in this position, but he got the message. She resorted to grinding against him once as she traced her fingers up his stomach.

At her touch, he made a groaning-cursing sound that sent even more moisture to her knickers. In decision, she slid off his lap and stood before him. If he was going to make her this wanton, she resolved for the tenth time this evening and the millionth time in their relationship, he was going to have to deal with the consequences.

She gave him her best flirtatious look as she flicked open the metal button and unzipped her jeans slowly, wiggling them off her hips with entirely more slithery movement than was necessary. She just hoped the digital firelight was as complimentary to her figure as she’d heard real fire would be (that is, as she read it was in romance novels). Well, the Doctor was certainly looking at her the way she hoped a man would look at his mostly unclothed beloved in the firelight, so in her mind, Netflix had done its job in helping her accomplish her plan. Now, it was up to him to decide the next move.


	3. Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where it concludes. In smutty detail.

Rose Tyler stood before him in the center of the fort, directly under the mistletoe, in only her knickers. Thin, black, with red lace around the edges. He memorized the details, knowing no matter how many times they did this in the future, this was the only first time they would ever have. The digital fire crackled lightly behind her. As fate would have it, the effect of the sonically-improved pixels was a golden glow around her bare form. She turned halfway to the screen, curious as his gaze flicked between her and the fire. The way the flames reflected in her honey eyes sent him on his own trip back in time.

He stared up at her in awe, his goddess, his Wolf, his haloed salvation. He rose to his feet and reclaimed her hips, tugging her close to him.

“You’re beautiful.”

The simple words made her inhale sharply. Or maybe it was the way he was worshipping her with his hands. No longer content to just hold her, they ran over her back and sides freely. She threaded her arms under his and held on to his shoulders as he explored her curves. Her thumbs drew circles on his back which grew to lightly, so lightly, scratching her nails over his skin. Tantalizingly slow, her touch drifted lower. It was his turn to gasp as she opened first his belt, then his jeans. She pushed the denim down, and he stepped to the side, bending down to pick them up and toss them into the pile of clothing that the far corner of the fort had acquired.

His boxer-briefs hid nothing, so in the interest of fairness and erotic curiosity, he returned his naughty roaming hands to her body. One held her still against him as the other dipped down her bum, over her knickers, between her legs, to feel the promised damp fabric. Of course, once he had gotten this far, he had to slide past the lace, inside to touch her folds. She hadn’t been exaggerating. She was slick with desire for him. And she was teasing his throbbing erection through his pants as she pecked light kisses to his chest and shoulder and neck.

He groaned her name, which had the somewhat intended/somewhat unintended consequence of making her stop. Which made him stop. Without even thinking about it, he brought his fingers to his lips to lick off the sticky wetness. So, his trusty oral fixation applied here too, then. He would have to explore that further later.

She watched him lick himself clean, and to her credit, only whimpered once.

“Right, then,” she said shakily when he was done. She gingerly pushed the elastic from his hips, freeing him to her view. And touch. He stepped out of the pants and kicked them to the side. Her turn. His fingers hooked around the last scrap of clothing between them and tugged down. She kicked her knickers to rest beside his pants in fitting symbolism of the night.

They grinned at each other for half a second before he caught her off-guard. In a move that thrilled her into shocked laughter, he swept her off her feet and, bending so she only had inches to fall, plopped her down on the most comfortable section of cushions, coincidentally also on top of their duvet from their bed. He kneeled next to her, admiring with great pleasure as he ran his hand up her thigh to her hot, dripping core. He stroked through her curls, across her folds, into her slit.

“If I’m right, should be about here…” he muttered, stroking his thumb up until he found her clit. He knew he’d hit the target when she cried out and released a breathy:

“Yeah, that’s… there.”

He preened, proud of his Rose-navigational skills, and received payback for it when she ran her fingers up his thigh and grasped his erection. She gave him a good stroke up and down and up again, complete with a swirl of her thumb around the tip.

“Doctor?” she asked unnecessarily. She should know she had his full and complete attention like this. “Let’s save the extra stuff for later, yeah?”

“Yeah, sounds… god. Good!” He struggled to form words as she still hadn’t released him.

“Right now-” She stroked down, down to brush her fingers across his balls, “Right now, I just want you inside me.”

Inside her. He could do that. He could certainly do that. Yep.

His hands steadied his weight on either side as he positioned himself over her and between her legs. She lifted one knee up to hook around his waist and he helped her with the other. He briefly glanced up to make sure she had plenty of pillows behind her, and that they wouldn’t destroy their fort as soon as they got going. Satisfied with the physics of their impending movements, he kissed her with all the fiery passion in his heart as he claimed what the multiverse tried to keep from him. It had felt in the past as if all of time and space was conspiring to prevent them from ever having this moment, but here in this fort, nothing could keep him from making love to Rose Tyler.

He entered her slowly at first, letting them both adjust. As the digital fire crackled behind them, the metaphorical fire raged brighter within.

“More, Doctor. Please…” Rose’s encouragements guided him and reassured him as he learned her body. He imagined one day he would know every inch of her by memory, where each little pleasure point rested, ready to be stroked into flames. The promise of such intimacy drove him faster and harder, until he remembered the magic spot he had already found.

He rolled his hips as he thrust into her again, wondering if he could rub against her there at this angle. A few more attempts and adjustments and recalculations, and she was writhing beneath him.

“I’m close,” she panted. “Yes, love. Right there. Yes!”

He rocked against her twice more before she came with his name on her lips, and he nearly lost control as her walls clenched around him, but wasn’t quite there yet. The angle had been mostly for her benefit. Now, he needed more, needed to be able to lose control without hurting her, needed something…

In a disappointing and worrisome second, he realized she was loosening her hold on him and dropping her limbs from around him. Just as he began to panic, however, she pushed at his shoulder and leveled him a dark, lust-ridden look.

“Sit up and hold on,” she commanded in a husky tone he had never heard from her before, leaving no room for protest or questioning. “I’m not through with you, Time Lord. You’re mine.”

“All yours.” He nodded enthusiastically. He sat back on his heels and waited for her to follow.

She straddled him again, just as he hoped she would, this time positioning her center just so. She sank down, and he slid into her easily this time. They both shuddered, but only stayed still a moment. She kissed him with wild abandon and ran her hands through his hair, which he took as his cue to begin thrusting. He moaned in pleasure as she lifted herself up and down in time with his rhythm, adding a little swirl of her hips into the mix.

Her breasts were pressing against his chest each time he drove into her body and it was driving him mad. He ached within her. He grasped her bum tightly to ensure she wouldn’t fall off his lap as she rode him and to position her exactly how he needed her. His thrusts grew relentless and rough and uncontrollable. She tilted her head to the side in an attempt to suck at his neck and he caught her scent: perfume and pheromones and pure Rose. An animalistic growl rumbled from him, and he was there. He held her in place as he came with a choked shout of her name. As he released into her, however, he received an unexpected gift. She grinded herself against him once more and came again, this time with a sound that was a mix of gasp, moan and scream. He rocked into her, just to see what she would do. Her walls clenched a final time, but this one milked every inch of him. He let his head droop down to rest on her shoulder and she leaned into him as well. Both were utterly spent.

He used his remaining energy to lower them so they were lying side by side. His hands returned to her body, unable to stay away. He ran a hand from her knee up her leg and discovered the messy result of their coupling was leaking down her thigh. He considered cleaning it up with his tongue, but found he was too drained to move that much. His eyelids were getting heavy in post-coital bliss. Odd quirk of human sex, that. The one part of this that would take some getting used to.

She kissed him, but eventually moved away and crawled out of the fort, providing him with a spectacular view, he observed before confusion set in.

“Rose?”

“Imma be right back. No movin’. Stay righ’ there,” she slurred, now out of sight. He always loved when her accent came out when she had a bit to drink, but oh, her being drunk on him was infinitely better. He ignored his brain’s logical reasoning that she was probably more exhausted than love-drunk, if that was even a thing. Instead, he kept himself awake while she was away cleaning up by committing the last several minutes to memory. He couldn’t decide which he liked best: when she was completely, hopelessly lost to his momentum or when she seized control and took from him what she wanted. He contemplated both, taking advantage of the rare moment where doing so wouldn’t make him painfully hard. Though from now on, that wasn’t such a bad thing.

At least, he hoped this was a “from now on” kind of situation. He was relatively sure she knew… Unless that’s why she had run away so quickly? She seemed to enjoy it in the moment, but perhaps she was now regretting what they had done?

Just as his doubt became more real than his pleasure, she was back. He observed with some disappointment that she was clothed (albeit, in a thin, short, sexy nightgown), but then she was wrapping herself around him and he was perfectly content again. She snuggled into his embrace and made a happy noise in her throat.

“Good?” he asked, hoping she understood what he was really asking.

“Perfection,” she answered with a kiss to his bare chest. He reached to take her hand, but found it occupied.

“What’s this?” He lifted up to see over her.

“Oh, right. I didn’t know if you’d want… so I grabbed these when I went to clean up.” She handed over the boxers he usually slept in. He nodded and moved to slip them on. “Speaking of, um, cleaning up… is there always that much or just because it was our first…? And it was different. Good different. I mean, it felt _so_ great, but I was just curious, if it was a Time Lord thing or…” She cut herself off with a yawn.

He laughed a bit at her groggy attempts at asking him a question. Then it registered what she was asking about.

“Yeah, I must have retained, um, a Gallifreyan amount of… well, you know. I produce more than most human men. It tastes better though. So-I’m-told!!!” he clarified quickly. “From the chemical makeup and--”

“Got it,” she giggled. “I’ll have to try it myself some time. I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, yep, that would…” He swallowed and flushed as he pictured her doing just that, full pink lips wrapped around him.

“Not right now though, now is sleep.”

“Just let me put out the fire,” he mumbled drowsily. He willed himself up to find the remote. He managed to find the switch on the cord to click off the fairy lights, but surrendered his search for the telly remote to the pile of pillows and blankets, now interspersed with clothing.

“It’s ok, not a real fire. Won’t burn us down.” She pulled him back to her side and they settled in for the night. They fell asleep under the dim light of digital embers, safe in their fortress against the rest of the cold universe’s problems and pain. Here in their winterhaven, there was comfort and joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hand if you would like a more Christmas-y epilogue! I have an idea but haven't written it yet. Still smutty, just a little different than my usual. ;)


End file.
